“Yes, but also to lower a pride greater than mine.”
The Pope smiled at this reply, and I knelt down and begged him to permit me to present the volume of Pandects to the Vatican Library. By way of reply he gave me his blessing, which signifies, in papal language, “Rise; your request is granted.”
“We will send you,” said he, “a mark of our singular affection for you without your having to pay any fees.”
A second blessing bid me begone. I have often felt what a good thing it would be if this kind of dismissal could be employed in general society to send away importunate petitioners, to whom one does not dare say, “Begone.”
I was extremely curious to know what the Pope had meant by “a mark of our singular affection.” I was afraid that it would be a blessed rosary, with which I should not have known what to do.
When I got home I sent the book by Costa to the Vatican, and then I went to dine with Mengs. While we were eating the soup the winning numbers from the lottery were brought in. My brother glanced at them and looked at me with astonishment. I was not thinking of the subject at that moment, and his gaze surprised me.
“Twenty-seven,” he cried, “came out fifth.”
“All the better,” said I, “we shall have some amusement out of it.”
I told the story to Mengs, who said,—
“It’s a lucky folly for you this time; but it always is a folly.”